Released 1977 Directed by David Lynch Starring John Nance Fantasy/Horror Genre Synopsis found here
Meshell
Where does one start with Lynch?
Eraserhead is nothing short of sinister. Set in a Chernobyl-esque, gritty industrial scene, Henry (John Nance) is to me an ominous parallel of Charlie Chapman. His distinctively high, fluffy hair (full of secrets?) and pen protector are to him what Charlie's bowler hat and cane. In his movement, Nance delivers a rigid, slapstick performance. He ambles over the industrial wasteland, shoulders curved, feet finding their way into muddy puddles and the like.
The interaction between characters is perplexing at best. Long, awkward silences are punctuated with bizarre discourse and inappropriate reactions; my favourite being when Mary's mother is questioning Henry on whether or not he had sexual intercourse with her daughter. Henry, pathetically withdraws himself into the corner as Mary's mother nuzzles at his neck.
The true question is, is Eraserhead a heartbreaking work of genius or pure fuckery?
The sound of silence & perfect mismatching
Sound is an extremely important element to the film. It makes the mundane of the film surreal and sheds light on the old hock, 'silence is deafening'. The slow pace, the silence, the jarring drone that seamlessly transitions from insect-like (locusts, scuttling cockroaches) to the hissing radiator, ticking clock, the scrape and scratch of metal on metal, and so on. All the noise represents the lack of noise.
The houses in which Lynch's odd characters share the mundane meets surreal in the sense they are what I imagined Motel rooms decorated in the 50's looked like in the 70's. Practical, functional meets outdated, mismatching and worn to a thread. However, Lynch injects the right measure of 'Lynchian' with particular addition, such as a milky puddle in the centre of a bed for the unfaithful Henry and his neighbour.
After all, who else could put a mud-pie atop a doily on a night stand, and for it to be the least questionable item in the film? Hats off to the kookiest director in a starched shirt, buttoned to the throat.
The good, the bad and the grotesque
I adore the Lady in the Radiator (I grew up listening to the Pixies' version of 'In Heaven, Everything is Fine').
I found the tiny chicken hilarious.
Same as Mary's mother's reaction. And Mary's coiffed fringe.
But just couldn't move past the grotesqueness of the 'baby'.
No one really knows how Lynch achieved this thing. I understand Lynch's desire to retain an air of mystery, but seriously. I would keep tight-lipped about a fucking mechanically animated horse-foetus-like thing. Precautionary tale of the dangers of premarital sex? Mehbeh.
Myskool
The Aural Industrial
You know you've made it as a filmmaker when you get your own adjective. Lynchian, that is, something that calls to mind or emulates the work of David Lynch, is not used as much as something like Burton-esque but that's probably simply because no one attempts to make anything as batshit insane as Eraserhead.
Eraserhead has been endearing to me since long before I ever saw it. I recall seeing the poster (featuring the image at the top of this post wherein Henry is spotlighted in a cloud of his own... I want to say 'head dust') in a magazine, probably when I was around 12. That was also the age where I first watched Clockwork Orange and Rocky Horror so I don't think my head would have exploded if I saw it. Although, I do believe it would have been right up my alley.
David Lynch starts here with this phenomenal first film. For me the windy pipes, cemented buildings, crumbled ruins, smokestacks and indistinct machinery are the perfect backdrop to this story. The focus on old industry, the fifties-esque conservatism and costume design and the jazz-influenced musique concrete soundtrack make the film timeless in the truest sense of the word. Though 'when is this happening?' is probably the last question on most people's minds.
You know you've made it as a filmmaker when you get your own adjective. Lynchian, that is, something that calls to mind or emulates the work of David Lynch, is not used as much as something like Burton-esque but that's probably simply because no one attempts to make anything as batshit insane as Eraserhead.
Eraserhead has been endearing to me since long before I ever saw it. I recall seeing the poster (featuring the image at the top of this post wherein Henry is spotlighted in a cloud of his own... I want to say 'head dust') in a magazine, probably when I was around 12. That was also the age where I first watched Clockwork Orange and Rocky Horror so I don't think my head would have exploded if I saw it. Although, I do believe it would have been right up my alley.
David Lynch starts here with this phenomenal first film. For me the windy pipes, cemented buildings, crumbled ruins, smokestacks and indistinct machinery are the perfect backdrop to this story. The focus on old industry, the fifties-esque conservatism and costume design and the jazz-influenced musique concrete soundtrack make the film timeless in the truest sense of the word. Though 'when is this happening?' is probably the last question on most people's minds.
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| [....] another might be "WTF?" |
I feel connected to this movie, and not just because Meshell reminded me that I looked like Henry every five minutes, the portrayals of the characters, though stylised, feel very real. The overzealousness of Bill, Mary's father, turning to brimstone about the lack of appreciation for plumbers. The naivete of Mary and her change from innocent girl to sullen, embittered mother. The confusion on Henry's face as he stares at a litter of dogs sucking at their mothers teats.
Nothing can be relied upon in this world. Henry, supposedly fresh from buying groceries, steps in a puddle of mud unsuspectingly. Henry seems surprised at the lack of mail. The elevator takes an uncharacteristically long time to close. There is a message from Mary who he has not spoken to in some time. On and on and on, until Henry is taking scissors to the giblets of his progeny. It's a wild and unexpected ride, but a feast for the senses. Meshell has pretty heavily covered the soundscape but I really want to mention how alive the world feels for such an empty wasteland; everything is smoking, bubbling, splintering or shining. The static shots don't even feel still, there is always noise informing you of other goings on. Even the music feels like effects, there is a great moment when Henry leaves his house and is walking to Mary's. What sounds like car honking begins in the background but gradually becomes part of the chord organ score.
I recommend Eraserhead to anyone who enjoys:
Nothing can be relied upon in this world. Henry, supposedly fresh from buying groceries, steps in a puddle of mud unsuspectingly. Henry seems surprised at the lack of mail. The elevator takes an uncharacteristically long time to close. There is a message from Mary who he has not spoken to in some time. On and on and on, until Henry is taking scissors to the giblets of his progeny. It's a wild and unexpected ride, but a feast for the senses. Meshell has pretty heavily covered the soundscape but I really want to mention how alive the world feels for such an empty wasteland; everything is smoking, bubbling, splintering or shining. The static shots don't even feel still, there is always noise informing you of other goings on. Even the music feels like effects, there is a great moment when Henry leaves his house and is walking to Mary's. What sounds like car honking begins in the background but gradually becomes part of the chord organ score.
I recommend Eraserhead to anyone who enjoys:
- Beautiful black and white cinematography.
- Creative use of sound and music.
- People who have little men controlling their nervous system with pulleys that force their mouths to open and spit out visual representations of spermatozoon.
